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Authors: Michael G. Manning
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was mottled, angry red
blotches combining with smut and tears to render his visage an ugly testament
to grief and despair.
A thousand things ran through Tyrion’s mind. Memories
of the man before him, his best friend’s father. He had never felt
particularly close to Seth’s dad, but the man had always been fair to him. The
years had made him a stranger, though. Owen showed no sign of recognition as
he looked at him.
“I’m not here to kill you, Owen.”
The older man’s eyes focused on him more intently,
trying to understand why the stranger had known his name. “Who are you?” he
asked.
“Where is Brigid?” asked Tyrion, ignoring the
question. His old name would only reopen wounds that were better left
undisturbed.
Owen looked down, focusing on Brenda’s face in his
lap. “I won’t tell you. Just kill me, so I can be with my wife.”
“I’m not here to kill anyone,” said Tyrion. “I want
to protect Brigid from those who came here before me. Where is she? Is she
with Seth?”
Owen looked up again, and recognition slowly dawned on
him. “Daniel?”
The name sent a sliver of pain into his heart.
“Something like that,” he admitted. “Where is Brigid?” He wanted out, he
wanted to be away. Owen’s eyes held an image of him that he didn’t want to
remember. The expectations there belonged to another person, to another life.
“She didn’t tell them,” said the farmer. “That’s why
they killed her. She wouldn’t betray her child.”
Tyrion’s eyes narrowed, “Then why are you alive?”
“I got here too late. They were already gone…”
“Then how do you know what she said?” said Tyrion
harshly.
“She wouldn’t. She loved Brigid dearly, more than her
own life.” Tears dripped from his nose to mingle with the blood covering his
wife’s bosom.
“People will say anything if you inflict enough pain.
Where is Brigid? There’s no time to waste if I’m to catch them.”
“At Seth’s,” answered Owen Tolburn.
Tyrion turned away and began to walk out.
“Do you even care that she’s dead?” asked the older
man, confused by his abrupt dismissal.
He paused and glanced back, letting his eyes roam over
the dead woman’s body. Brenda Tolburn, no Brenda Sayer, was as dead as
any of the other corpses he had seen before. He felt empty looking at her.
She was the reason he had become what he was now.
Once he had hated her. Hated her for destroying his
dreams, hated her for raping him, but he could no longer feel even that for
her. He had done far worse than what she had. Staring at the terrible wounds
on her body, he wondered how long she had held out before she had given them
the information they sought.
Even she loved. She loved her children.
He made his way out and reclaimed his horse without
bothering to answer. It would take at least an hour to reach Seth and Kate’s
house. He already knew he was too late. Now it was just a matter of how long
it would be before he caught up to those who had gotten there before him.
The darkness could not touch him as he rode, for he was
darker inside than even a moonless night could hope to challenge.
Chapter
7
He passed his old home without stopping. There was no
light coming from it, and his magesight found no one within, which was just as
well, he had no time to waste. He couldn’t help but wonder where they were,
though. Haley had told him that they weren’t injured when she was taken.
Tyrion kept his pace steady. The wardens would have
already been to Kate and Seth Tolburn’s home. Even factoring in the time they
had spent at Owen Tolburn’s farm, they had to still be at least three or four
hours ahead of him. By now they had taken Brigid and moved on. The only
question was how many they had hurt or killed along the way.
He stroked the horse’s neck as if to calm her, but it
was his own tension that needed soothing. Save your strength for the chase, he thought.
Catherine and Seth Tolburn’s house was well lit when
it
blotches combining with smut and tears to render his visage an ugly testament
to grief and despair.
A thousand things ran through Tyrion’s mind. Memories
of the man before him, his best friend’s father. He had never felt
particularly close to Seth’s dad, but the man had always been fair to him. The
years had made him a stranger, though. Owen showed no sign of recognition as
he looked at him.
“I’m not here to kill you, Owen.”
The older man’s eyes focused on him more intently,
trying to understand why the stranger had known his name. “Who are you?” he
asked.
“Where is Brigid?” asked Tyrion, ignoring the
question. His old name would only reopen wounds that were better left
undisturbed.
Owen looked down, focusing on Brenda’s face in his
lap. “I won’t tell you. Just kill me, so I can be with my wife.”
“I’m not here to kill anyone,” said Tyrion. “I want
to protect Brigid from those who came here before me. Where is she? Is she
with Seth?”
Owen looked up again, and recognition slowly dawned on
him. “Daniel?”
The name sent a sliver of pain into his heart.
“Something like that,” he admitted. “Where is Brigid?” He wanted out, he
wanted to be away. Owen’s eyes held an image of him that he didn’t want to
remember. The expectations there belonged to another person, to another life.
“She didn’t tell them,” said the farmer. “That’s why
they killed her. She wouldn’t betray her child.”
Tyrion’s eyes narrowed, “Then why are you alive?”
“I got here too late. They were already gone…”
“Then how do you know what she said?” said Tyrion
harshly.
“She wouldn’t. She loved Brigid dearly, more than her
own life.” Tears dripped from his nose to mingle with the blood covering his
wife’s bosom.
“People will say anything if you inflict enough pain.
Where is Brigid? There’s no time to waste if I’m to catch them.”
“At Seth’s,” answered Owen Tolburn.
Tyrion turned away and began to walk out.
“Do you even care that she’s dead?” asked the older
man, confused by his abrupt dismissal.
He paused and glanced back, letting his eyes roam over
the dead woman’s body. Brenda Tolburn, no Brenda Sayer, was as dead as
any of the other corpses he had seen before. He felt empty looking at her.
She was the reason he had become what he was now.
Once he had hated her. Hated her for destroying his
dreams, hated her for raping him, but he could no longer feel even that for
her. He had done far worse than what she had. Staring at the terrible wounds
on her body, he wondered how long she had held out before she had given them
the information they sought.
Even she loved. She loved her children.
He made his way out and reclaimed his horse without
bothering to answer. It would take at least an hour to reach Seth and Kate’s
house. He already knew he was too late. Now it was just a matter of how long
it would be before he caught up to those who had gotten there before him.
The darkness could not touch him as he rode, for he was
darker inside than even a moonless night could hope to challenge.
Chapter
7
He passed his old home without stopping. There was no
light coming from it, and his magesight found no one within, which was just as
well, he had no time to waste. He couldn’t help but wonder where they were,
though. Haley had told him that they weren’t injured when she was taken.
Tyrion kept his pace steady. The wardens would have
already been to Kate and Seth Tolburn’s home. Even factoring in the time they
had spent at Owen Tolburn’s farm, they had to still be at least three or four
hours ahead of him. By now they had taken Brigid and moved on. The only
question was how many they had hurt or killed along the way.
He stroked the horse’s neck as if to calm her, but it
was his own tension that needed soothing. Save your strength for the chase, he thought.
Catherine and Seth Tolburn’s house was well lit when
it
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